Saving Me
by Jlee
Summary: [A Draco Fic] Draco's life seems to have gone spiraling down since he made that one simple promise... To be good. *Chapter 6*
1. The Promise

Draco kept his back to the wall, trying not to make any movement or sound. His mother and father were fighting again, though this time they had reached a higher octave than usual. Slowly, he peaked around the corner. His mom's usually pale face was flushed with red and the vein on his father's head was throbbing wildly. He listened closely, trying to figure out what they were fighting about this time.   
  
" — Think of what you're doing to Draco!"   
  
His stomach lurched. They were arguing about _him_.   
  
"What's wrong with the boy?" came his father's voice. "He's the splitting image of his old man."   
  
"Exactly!" shrieked his mom's. He could hear her beginning to sob. "I don't want this life for Draco! I don't want him to turn out like... like us! This life we live... Under that-that-that... _thing_!"   
  
Draco nearly jumped at the sudden sound of a slap.   
  
"_Never_ speak ill of our lord again," ordered his father. More sobbing came from his mom. He slid down the wall, no longer caring if he made noise. His own father his hit mom. Just because she didn't want Draco to turn out like them.   
  
  
He went to bed that night, not entirely sure how he got from the hallway to his bedroom. His mind was aching, his heart was pounding, and his breathing was quick and hard. He felt angry. He felt sad. He felt like throwing up. But he knew that while it was a good way to get rid of his dinner, his thoughts and problems would still be there.   
  
He rolled over in his bed, hearing the sounds of his mom's weeping and her voices echoing. He remembered one day, when he was about 13, she had told him he was getting more like his father everyday. All that time he had considered it a compliment. He never noticed the worry in her voice.   
  
  
The next morning was a particularly cold one. His mom and father weren't talking, apparently still angry with each other about the last argument, and Sonny, their new house elf, had scorch marks down its' arms which — Draco figured his father had given it.   
  
He was very glad indeed that is was September 1st, and felt great desire to get back inside the walls of Hogwarts.   
  
"Write to me," his mom whispered in his ear as she gave him one final hug.   
  
"Take care," he whispered back.   
  
She held him at arms length and looked him straight in the eye, which wasn't so hard since he was practically the same height as her, if not taller. "Be good," she said, looking at him intently.   
  
Draco's stomach gave a funny jolt. Draco Malfoy? Be _good_? The idea was laughable, downright impossible. But the look on his mom's eyes killed him. He found himself nodding slowly, promising to her he'd try.   
  
"I know you'll make me proud," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.   
  
Good going Draco, he told himself. Promising a thing like that to your own mom. He started feeling sick again. Now he actually had to _try_.   
  
He spotted his Slytherin gang in one of the compartments but — to his great surprise — hid from them. He really didn't feel like talking to them just then. It was particularly hard for him to avoid Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl also in her fifth year, as she kept turning up everywhere he went. He could've sworn she had his scent locked down or something.   
  
Narrowly escaping her and her friends for the fifth time, he turned a corner and hit something with an enormous THUD. He quickly got up, not pausing to see who it was, muttered a "Sorry", and ran down the corridor, hoping Pansy hadn't heard.   
  
"You alright Harry?" Ron bent down and grabbed an arm while Hermione grabbed the other.   
  
"Yeah I think so," said Harry, fixing his glasses that had nearly fallen off. "Was that Malfoy?"   
  
"Wouldn't miss that greasy hair by a mile," said Hermione, glaring down the corridor where Malfoy had gone. "Why?"   
  
"Well, was it me or... did he just say 'Sorry'?" 

__________________ 

_A/N: Author here. I realize that I've made Draco seem somewhat... not himself. And I'm sorry to all those hardcore Draco fans for that. But I actually believe that Draco is good at heart. Er, deep down. And this is actually just a far-fetched dream of some teenage girl who's had too much time on her hands. That'll explain Draco's behavior in the next chapters. He will get more unlike himself with every word. *shrugs* Color me weird, color me crazy — but I'm actually quite proud of it. Heh. Comments, flames (not too harsh though, I am human), and suggestions are begged for. I'd really like to see how people would react to my Draco. Also, the title will make sense in the later chapters._


	2. News of Failure

There she was again! Draco ducked behind a corner as Pansy and a group of her Slytherin friends were walking down a corridor, each holding an armful of sweets. Getting irritated, he slid into an empty compartment and peaked out to make sure Pansy had gone.   
  
"Hello," said a voice behind him, making him jump. He spun around quickly, clutching his heart, to see a girl sitting in the far corner. She looked right about his age with light brown hair draped over her shoulders and light blue eyes, staring curiously at him. She wasn't wearing her school robes but he was certain she wasn't in Slytherin. He knew a Slytherin when he saw one and Slytherins _never_ smile like that.   
  
"Oh! Uh, sorry I...," he stuttered. Was it just him, or did he just say "sorry"? ... _TWICE_? He realized he was sweating, and desperately wanted to change out of the black turtleneck he was wearing.   
  
The girl just smiled at him. "It's okay," she said. "I don't mind the company."   
  
Draco started to feel he was getting a little bit too friendly so he decided he'd better leave when she spoke again.   
  
"You must be Draco."   
  
Pausing halfway from the door, he turned to her. "How did you know my name?"   
  
She grinned, and turned her attention to a book she was reading. "I know a Malfoy when I see one."   
  
Feeling insulted, he made a swift move forward. "Now see here — "   
  
"I'm Emily," she said before he could get another word out. "Emily Mathers." She stuck out her hand, and smiled as Draco looked at it curiously. She _definitely_ wasn't in Slytherin.   
  
Suddenly the door slid open and from it came a high-pitched squeal that Draco was all-too familiar with. "Oh no," he groaned under his breath, shutting his eyes tight as Pansy threw her arms around his neck.   
  
"Oh *Dracy, you haven't written me once this summer!" she squealed, planting a big kiss on his cheek. She didn't hear his groans through her squeals.   
  
"I've — uh — been busy," he said, tearing her arms off of him. "And stop calling me 'Dracy'." He shuddered to think what his friends would say if he were given a pet name like that.   
  
Pansy put on her pouting, puppy-eyed face, whimpering.   
  
Draco winced. He hated it when she did that. Not because he was weak to it, but because it made her look even uglier than she already did. "Pansy, don't."   
  
"Oh so _you're_ Pansy," said Emily, whom Draco nearly forgot was there.   
  
Pansy suddenly stopped her whimpering and snapped her head to look at the voice. Apparently she hadn't noticed Emily standing there. "Who're you?" she asked, eyeing her suspiciously.   
  
"Emily Mathers," said Emily. "Oh Draco's told me an awful lot about you," she said, grinning at Draco as she sat back down and opened her book.   
  
"He has, has he?" said Pansy, raising a brow at Draco, who was looking at Emily with a perplexed look on his face. "And I assume that's what you two were doing here, _alone_, in an empty compartment?"   
  
Emily shrugged, and turned to Pansy, a sly grin on her face. "One would think."   
  
Pansy's eyes flickered towards Draco, who looked as confused as he ever did. "Well!" she said, glaring at him. "We'll see about that _Mr_. Malfoy!" She turned and left, slammng the door on her way.   
  
Draco stared at Pansy's retreating back, his mouth hung open. He looked back at Emily, who was grinning behind her book. Angered, he marched to her seat. "Why'd you go and do that for?" he asked, wondering how she could be so calm about it. No doubt Pansy had begun spreading the rumors already.   
  
"Do what?" Emily asked, putting her book down and staring at him innocently.   
  
This only made him angrier. "Tell Pansy that! Now she'll be telling people we were... were..." She blinked, grinning slightly. "Well — you know!"   
  
She shrugged and opened her book again. "It's not my fault what people assume."   
  
"Argh! Don't you care about your reputation?"   
  
That had done it. She slammed her book and stood up to look him straight in the eye. "If something were to ruin my reputation, it would be more than a silly little rumor." And with that, she crossed the room and left, leaving Draco even more confused than he already was.   
  
  
It was to his great surprise to see her in his Double Herbology class the following Tuesday. He had never really noticed the Hufflepuffs in the class. At least he knew what House she was in now. The whole issue had kind of been plaguing his mind ever since he arrived at Hogwarts. Why exactly, he didn't know.   
  
He was greatly relieved to see that Pansy hadn't spread any rumors about him. She still seemed pissed about it though, for she had been ignoring Draco — though he wasn't complaining. Throughout the class she'd been eyeing Emily with a murderous glint in her eyes, which normally wouldn't bother Draco, but for some reason he felt the need to clear it out with her.   
  
But before he could talk to Pansy, Professor Sprout had called him over to her desk. She had a grave look on her face that made Draco feel somewhat uneasy. She looked at him like he was on a deathbed or something.   
  
"I don't know if you've noticed, Mr. Malfoy, but you nearly failed this class last year," she said.   
  
Draco stayed silent. He had barely passed with a C-.   
  
"And, truth be told, if you're to continue down the same road you paved yourself in your fourth year, I won't be surprised at all if you failed this year." She paused to let the words sink in. "Which is why I know you'll understand when I assign you a tutor."   
  
"A what?!"   
  
"A tutor," she said firmly. "I don't like to fail my students, Mr. Malfoy, which is why I'm taking no risk. Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to assign you a student tutor to help you with your studies. Unless, of course, you think you can do better on your own?"   
  
Draco shut his mouth, practically fuming. She smirked at him.   
  
"Now, Miss Mathers has kindly accepted to — "   
  
"'_Mathers_'?" Draco repeated, whipping his head around to look at Emily. She wasn't looking back but there was no mistaking the grin lurking around her mouth.   
  
"Yes," said Sprout, beginning to get irritated. "Miss Mathers received one of the highest marks in this class last year." Draco was speechless. He couldn't even begin to imagine what people would say about him being tutored. By a Hufflepuff, even! "You're to begin the tutor sessions tomorrow night, seeing as how we'll be having an overview test on Thursday. Sessions are every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday nights at 7:00 in the Library, though you're free to use this greenhouse. I've trusted Miss Mathers with a key." There goes all his free time. He didn't even want to think about having to do that, homework, _and_ Quidditch practice. "And I wouldn't say no to asking Miss Mathers for help on other subjects," Sprout continued, eyeing Draco. "According to records, the only class you're likely to pass is Potions."   
  
Draco smiled weakly. He'd probably fail that too if Snape hadn't favored him.   
  
"You may go." And he was more than happy to.   
  
"What was that about?" Goyle asked as Draco took his seat between him and Crabbe.   
  
"Nothing," Draco said quickly, avoiding the eyes of both Pansy and Emily. 

_______________________ 

_A/N: *Dracy is pronounced as 'Drake-y'._


	3. Locked Down

He had seriously considered skipping the session the other night. What would he tell his friends? But his mom's words kept playing over in his mind. "_I know you'll make me proud_." His stomach gave a guilty lurch and he found himself walking towards the Library.   
  
It was completely empty, except for the librarian, Madam Pince, who kept eyeing him suspiciously from behind her desk.   
  
He gave a great sigh and sat down at the furthermost table, with one arm draped over his chair, the other twirling his wand, and his legs stretched out underneath the the long table.   
  
He found himself getting angry and was just about to leave when he heard footsteps approaching him. Emily had her bag around her shoulders and was carrying a large, silver plate in her hands.   
  
"It's about time," he said grumpily. "Where've you been?"   
  
She gave him an angry look, placed the place down and tapped it with her wand. Instantly the plate was filled with sandwhiches and two goblets full of juice. "Getting food," she said irritably. "I figured you wouldn't want to study on an empty stomach."   
  
He suddenly remembered he hadn't eaten yet, and reached over for a sandwhich. Right after he lifted it up, another sandwhich had magically appeared where it had been.   
  
Emily proceeded to open her Herbology book and began skimming through the pages. "I think it's best to continue off of yesterday's lesson. Do you remember what it was about?"   
  
Draco blinked, chewing absentmindedly on a large piece of bacon in his mouth.   
  
Emily let out a sigh and flipped the book around so Draco could read from it. "It was about gillyweed. Now according to Professor Sprout, gillyweed is very useful, do you know why?"   
  
He gave her another blank look. She stared up at the ceiling, muttering something under her breath, shook her head, then continued on.   
  
"Eating gillyweed raw provides the eater with lungs, enabling them to breathe underwater. However, gillyweed is also used as an essential ingredient in — "   
  
She was suddenly interrupted by a loud slurping noise, and peered over the book to see Draco chugging down his pumpkin juice.   
  
"Ahem," she said, glaring at him.   
  
Slowly and carefully, Draco set the goblet and his sandwhich down. He cleared his throat nervously and sat up straight, his fingers interlocked. "Sorry," he whispered.   
  
"No continue," she said, leaning back into her chair and folding her arms. "I personally don't care whether you fail or not."   
  
"Look, I said I'm sorry, okay?" said Draco, feeling a bit irritated.   
  
She was tapping the book loudly with her fingers now, still staring intently at him. "You need to take this seriously."   
  
"I will — I am," he said, feeling beads of sweat trickling down his head. She stared at him for a while, as if to see if he would crack. "Look, I don't want to fail, okay? I'm taking it seriously. Now — now, what about gillyweed?"   
  
Emily, looking quite satisfied, picked up the book again and began reading from it.   
  
  
It seemed like he had been there forever. Listening to Emily go on and on about some plant was not really how Draco would've chosen to spend a Wednesday night. He tried his best to keep an interested look on his face, but he was really close to falling asleep.   
  
" — No way Malfoy'd be in here."   
  
Draco immediately whipped his head around. At the Library door stood Crabbe, Goyle, and — to Draco's disgust — Pansy. Immediate embarrassment swept over him. What would they say if they saw him being tutored? Panicked, he shot up from his seat and ran in between two book shevles, hoping they didn't see him.   
  
He listened intently from behind a shelf.   
  
"Look around," he heard Pansy order.   
  
"But, Malfoy?" said Crabbe. "In the _Library_?"   
  
"Trust me," snapped Pansy. "Look around, I know he's in here somewhere."   
  
"Locked down," Draco muttered to himself, cursing.   
  
"What are you doing?" said Emily. She had her hands on her hips and was standing out in plain view a few feet away from Draco.   
  
"Shh!" he said, grabbed her arm, and dragged her between the shelves. He listened around for them again.   
  
"Oh look — Food!" came Goyle's voice.   
  
Draco cursed again, grabbed Emily's hand, and dragged her away before Crabbe and Goyle reached the sandwhiches.   
  
"Why do they have to be so thick?" he muttered angrily.   
  
"Why are we hiding?" Emily whispered irritably.   
  
"Shh!" he said again, still listening.   
  
"What are you two doing?" said Pansy. Draco could see Pansy tapping her foot angrily while Crabbe and Goyle stuffed their faces with the bacon sandwiches. "You're supposed to be looking for Dracy!"   
  
"'Dracy'?" Crabbe and Goyle laughed loudly, spitting bacon shreds at Pansy.   
  
Draco cursed again.   
  
"Eew!" shrieked Pansy, picking the bacon off her robes. "Where'd you find that food?"   
  
"Wash righ' herre," said Goyle, mouth full of food.   
  
"Really?" said Pansy, looking devious. "I knew it! He's here somewhere! Stop eating and look around!"   
  
cursed even more, and was wondering angrily why Madam Pince hadn't yelled at them yet. Surely Pansy's shrieks would've reached her. He grabbed Emily's arm again and began to drag her over to the Restricted Section.   
  
"What are you doing?" Emily asked, seeing the sign. "This is the Restricted Section!"   
  
"They wouldn't look in here," he said, more to himself than Emily.   
  
"Why are you being such a prat?" said Emily, still whispering. "Just tell them what you're doing here."   
  
"No," Draco said firmly. He knew he was being stubborn but he didn't care. Anything would be better than having his friends laugh at him for being tutored. He sat down at the far end of the section, against some books with rather revolting pictures on the front. He waited. He could still hear Goyle's enormous feet thundering around, Pansy's heels scrape the foot, and Crabbe muttering to himself.   
  
Emily huffed, and crossed her arms again. "There's no shame in being tutored," she told him, refusing to sit down. "I bet your friends aren't even passing themselves."   
  
Draco would've retorted, but she was probably right anyway. "That's not the point," he said instead.   
  
"And what is the point?" asked Emily, finally taking a seat a few feet beside him. "The shame of being tutored by a Hufflepuff?" He sensed a bit of hurt in her voice and winced guiltily. "I know what you lot say about us Hufflepuffs. 'Softies', 'sissies'." She grated the floor with the bottom of her shoe. "Well you're wrong," she continued.   
  
Draco remained silent. He couldn't really think of anything to say to make her feel better. He felt a pang of guilt for actually being one of the people to call them that. And here he was, needing the help of one when he treated them so badly.   
  
Why was he like that? he wondered. His father had been doing it for years. Treating people like scum, just because of their statuses. All those years he thought that that was how you're supposed to act. He suddenly realized what his mother had meant. She didn't want him turning out like his father. And, right then, he decided he didn't want to turn out like him either.   
  
"I think they're gone," said Emily. She stood up and began to wipe the dust off of her robes.   
  
The Library was completely silent. Draco carefully looked around the corners before going back to their table.   
  
"I think we'll leave it here for today," said Emily, and began packing up her things. And without another word, she rushed past him and left. Draco shivered, feeling the room had suddenly gotten a lot colder. 


	4. Out of It

The next day wasn't much better. Emily still seemed to have been insulted by Draco, so she was constantly giving him the cold shoulder. Crabbe and Goyle immediately took a liking to calling him 'Dracy', and Pansy was hanging on him every chance she got.   
  
Feeling particularly 'out of it' for his next Care of Magical Creatures lesson, he chose to stay behind while Hagrid presented them all with a couple of fully grown larynths — tall, massive birds with shiny and glinting feathers, piercing, silver eyes, and shiny talons that looked to be actual bronze.   
  
"Now, they're very classy, them larynths," said Hargid. "They like ter show off an' are very proud."   
  
Good thing Draco was listening. He didn't want to be attacked by another proud beast again.   
  
"Who wants ter pet 'em then, eh?" Some hands were raised, and very carefully, a couple of Gryffindors went over to stroke the glowing birds.   
  
Off to the side, Draco noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione cutting up some caterpillars to feed the larynths, speaking in low voices. Slowly, he took a step in their direction, very curious as to what they were discussing. To his surprise, they were talking about him.   
  
"Crabbe and Goyle are even bullying him," he heard Hermione say.   
  
"Seems a bit out of it, doesn't he?" said Harry. "Heard he's been saying 'sorry' and everything."   
  
"Are you kidding me?" said Ron. "I'd eat these caterpillars the day Malfoy goes soft." He stopped abruptly, his face suddenly turning green.   
  
Harry spun around to see Draco standing a few feet away from them, his hands in his pockets. Apprehensively, he reached in his robes for his wand, in case he needed it. But Draco didn't reach in his robes for his. He didn't even scowl. He just looked at them with an expression Harry couldn't read. Very slowly, Draco turned his gaze back to the larynths, catching all three of them by surprise.   
  
"Caterpillars are looking pretty good now, aren't they Ron?" said Hermione, smirking. Ron ignored her and continued to cut up the caterpillars while Harry continued to look at Draco. Something was certainly up with him, Harry thought. But whether it be a good or bad thing, he didn't know.   
  
  
"What does that oaf think he's proving?' said Pansy, slipping her arm through Draco's as they walked down to the greenhouse. "Thinks he's such a great teacher. As if! Don't you agree, Dracy?" She batted her eyelashes towards him, but his gaze was to the floor. He didn't say anything, and continued to look at the ground with a blank expression on his face. Pansy shot Crabbe and Goyle a worried look, and the two did the same. They had noticed the change in Draco too, and quite frankly, it frightened them all.   
  
  
"You'll only need your quills and a piece of parchment for your answer sheet," said Professor Sprout as the class assembled themselves in the room. "This is just an overview of Tuesday's lesson, don't' worry," she said, catching some nervouse looks on her student's faces.   
  
But Draco had a lot to worry about. Everything Emily had told him the other night had leaked out of his head and he knew absolutley nothing about gillyweed. A great way to start the year, he told himself miserably, failing your first test. He let out a heavy sigh, glancing at Emily. She was inking her quill and wasn't looking worried at all. He scolded himself. He should've been listening to her, but he was too worried of what his friends would say — if you even call them that. He found himself feeling jealous of Harry, having two great friends like Ron and Hermione. But his train of thought was cut short when Professor Sprout handed him the test.   
  
"Here goes," he said to himself, and dipped his quill in his ink bottle.   
  
_1. Gillyweed, when eaten raw, enables the eater to...?  
2. Gillyweed is used is various healing potions such as...? (Name 3)  
3. When is the best time to harvest gillyweed?  
4. Legend has it that a certain planet affects the growth of gillyweed. Name that planet._   
  
And it continued on all the way to number 38. Draco sighed again. His head was pounding. Never in his life had he felt so clueless. Feeling desperate, he caught himself glancing over Crabbe's shoulder — though it was pointless, for all Crabbe was doing was doodling all over his answer sheet. And it was no point in trying to cheat off of Goyle's, for Goyle — if possible — was even dumber than Crabbe. Add that to the fact that he was too tall for Draco to peer over his shoulder.   
  
He looked across the table at Pansy, who was busy twirling her quill and playing with her hair. Her answer sheet was blank as well. He groaned. He was doomed. He cast a glance at Emily, and was not surprised to see that her answer sheet was nearly full.   
  
Before he knew it, Sprout had called for them to place their quills down. He looked at his answer sheet — it was completely blank. Feeling like he had just handed in his death sentence, he nervously fiddled with his quill.   
  
"Mr. Malfoy," said Sprout, her voice hard.   
  
Draco winced and made his way towards her, his heart beating fast. She looked at him with hard, piercing eyes. She then took her eyes off of him, looked past him, and said, "Miss Mathers."   
  
Draco looked at Sprout curiously. He heard Emily's chair scrape and she appeared beside him, just as curious as he was.   
  
"I'm very disappointed in you," Sprout said. But to Draco's enormous surprise, she was talking to Emily.   
  
"Pardon?" said Emily, just as shocked.   
  
"Mr. Malfoy, hear, obviously did not understand the material," said Sprout, holding up Draco's blank sheet. "I expected better of you, Miss Mathers. Shall I assign him another tutor?"   
  
"No!" Emily said quickly, looking nervous. "No — no, I can tutor him — I can."   
  
"Very well," said Sprout. "And you, Mr. Malfoy — " Here it was, he thought. "I trust you'll give Miss Mathers your utmost attention?"   
  
He blinked. That was it? No punishment? No lecture? But he wasn't about to object and so he nodded.   
  
"You make take your seats." And so he did, feeling more confused than ever. Why had Sprout gotten mad at Emily more than he? He shook his head, feeling like he'd never understand women.   
  
  
As the lunch bell rang, Emily ran up to Draco to ask if she could speak with him privately — much to Pansy's disgust.   
  
"You didn't listen to a thing I said last night, did you?" she asked him, her blue eyes glaring. He shifted from foot to foot guiltiy, but remained silent. He noticed that he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. She let out an aggravated sigh. "Meet me at the Library tonight at 7:00," she told him, her hands on her hips. "I am not letting you ruin my chance at that extra credit." She left for the Grand Hall, leaving Draco to wonder about her words.   
  
"Extra credit?" 


	5. Misunderstandings

Figuring Emily wouldn't bring food anymore, he ate his dinner early and left for the Library, without telling Crabbe nor Goyle where he was off to.   
  
Emily was already there, and, as he suspected, she had not brought food. Instead the table was covered with countless books, all opened and scattered about. Emily was hunched over a particularly large one when she noticed Draco there.   
  
"Research," she told him. "I managed to get Sprout to tell me all the plants she'd be covering this term so we can get a head start."   
  
Draco nodded, feeling it best for him not to speak. He quickly and quietly took his seat across from her, and found himself not knowing what to do next.   
  
Emily, however, seemed very busy and began shuffling through a pile of parchment which — Draco noticed — she had written rather untidily on, as if she were in a hurry. She found what she was looking for and handed it to him, saying, "That's the list of plants and herbs we're going to cover. All the way from gillyweed to draconis."   
  
Draco stared wide-eyed at the list. There may as well have been 20 herbs listed down. It was beyond him how Sprout planned to go over all of them in just one term.   
  
"Now I've managed to look up the first five," she said, showing him a pile of parchment with her hurried writing on it, "but I'm having trouble getting anything useful on harpstring."   
  
Draco nodded again, though he had no idea what a harpstring was. He instinctively took a book and began shuffling through it, not entirely sure what he was looking for.   
  
  
The session was uneventful, yet again. Draco barely absorbed any of the notes Emily had written, and was very close to dismissing the whole tutoring thing, feeling it wasn't helping him at all — just taking up his time.   
  
It was around breakfast time the next day, though, that Draco received his first, real shock.   
  
"How's you and that Hufflepuff girl?" asked Crabbe, grinning madly.   
  
"What are you talking about?" asked Draco, trying to act as though he'd never seen a Hufflepuff before.   
  
"Goyle here said he saw you and some Hufflepuff coming out of the Library last night on his way to the kitchens," explained Crabbe, now winking at him.   
  
Draco cursed himself inwardly. They're sure to bully him about the tutoring now. But, neither Crabbe nor Goyle looked it. They were both looking at Draco with utmost respect.   
  
"You dog," said Goyle, who winked at him as well.   
  
"Wha— ?"   
  
"Why didn't you tell us you were snogging some Hufflepuff?" said Crabbe suddenly.   
  
Draco's pale eyes widened. "What?!"   
  
"Oh, come on," said Goyle. "There's no need to lie about it. I mean, what else would Draco Malfoy be doing in the_ Library_?" He chuckled. "'Course, I'd understand why you'd want to hide it. I mean, a _Hufflepuff_?" Now Crabbe joined in the chuckling. Draco felt himself getting mad — this was exactly the thing Emily had mentioned before on their first session. "She must be quite a snogger for you to go for her." He winked at Draco again.   
  
Draco smiled weakly. They thought he was snogging Emily.   
  
"We should've known it was a girl," said Crabbe. "You've not really been yourself lately." He chuckled again. "Goyle, here, thought you were going soft."   
  
Draco let out a weak chuckle. He didn't really know what to say.   
  
"So who is this lucky girl?" asked Goyle. Either he hadn't seen Emily last night, or he too didn't pay much attention to Hufflepuffs.   
  
"Why?" Draco found himself saying. For some reason, he didn't want the word going around. No doubt they'd pin Emily to be some sort of scarlet woman — like what his mom called them.   
  
"You're not gonna' keep her secret from us, are you?" said Crabbe, in his would-be hurt voice.   
  
"Who have you told?" asked Draco. If word got around... He shuddered to think about it.   
  
"No one yet," said Goyle. Draco's eye twitched. 'Yet'. He shut his mouth tight. He didn't want them thinking he was going for a Hufflepuff — but he didn't want them to know he was getting tutored either. So instead he remained silent, hoping Crabbe and Goyle's two-minute attention span would kick in soon.   
  
The grins on Crabbe and Goyle's mouths slowly disappeared. For a fracture of a moment, they looked almost hurt. But all too quickly, scowls appeared on their faces.   
  
"I see," said Goyle, staring so hard at Draco that it made him sweat. Crabbe and Goyle glanced at each other, then turned back to their breakfast, completely ignoring Draco.   
  
Draco, sensing a lot of tension, chose this moment to go back to the common room.   
  
He didn't get a chance to, though, for Pansy was standing right in front of it, chatting away with her friends. He really didn't want to see nor talk to her then so he made a quick about-face and found himself wandering around the lake.   
  
He didn't have Divination til the afternoon, and seeing as how eating breakfast and chilling in the common room was out of the question, he found a comfy spot at the shore of the lake, his back to the castle. There was a calm wind blowing against him, making small ripples across the lake. And though he was deeply troubled, he couldn't help but feeling calm.   
  
The fact remained though. He was likely on the road to failing and his friends are mad at him because of a misunderstanding — which is sure to reach the ears of everyone soon. And, throughout all of this, he can't help but remember his promise to his mom. He cursed. He literally wanted to punch something just then. He actually felt like punching himself. Feeling he was at great risk to himself, he placed his hands underneath him.   
  
"What are you doing?"   
  
Draco let in a small intake of breath. Emily was standing behind him, looking curiously at him. There were pieces of parchment in her hands — it looked as if she were going to give him some more notes.   
  
Draco, realizing how stupid he must've looked with his hands underneath his bum, quickly stood up — stumbling a bit.   
  
"N-nothing," he said, brushing off the grass from his robes. "What are you doing here?" He quickly looked around for any signs of Crabbe and Goyle. To his great relief, no one was outside but them. She seemed to have forgotten what she was doing there for a second, but quickly fumbled with the parchment in her hands.   
  
"I found this legend on harpstring," she said. "My mom looked it over on the internet. Apparently, Muggles have a lot of info on magical herbs."   
  
He flinched. She was a Mud... She was Muggle-born.   
  
She held it out to him. She looked a bit embarrassed, as if resenting what she had told him. He took it, seeing her familiar rushed handwriting.   
  
"I don't know if it'll help the research much," she said, holding her hands uncomfortably. "I mean it's just a legend — and I'm not entirely sure it's a _real_ one but — "   
  
"It's something," said Draco, catching Emily off-guard.   
  
"Yeah — of course, I mean..." She was grasping her hands tighter now. "Yes."   
  
Draco stared. She was acting very weird. Had she perhaps heard about the rumor? But even if she had, wouldn't she feel insulted and/or mad? She was avoiding his eyes. She cleared her throat, mumbled something about being late for her next class, and rushed towards the Entrance Hall. 


	6. Predictions and Balls

"Alas! Venus is aligned with Jupiter," said Professor Trelawney. "You all know what that means." She paused to let the class answer. But no one even blinked. "_Love_ is in the air, my children," she said, answering for them. Most of the class didn't seem to think of this as interesting, but almsot every girl squealed. Pansy, herself, looked at Draco with sparkling eyes.   
  
Draco felt his insides churn. He turned his head away and busied himself with the smoke coming from the incense burning on Trelawney's table.   
  
"Professor Dumbledore, himself, has acknowledged these signs and has seen to it to arrange a Ball this Boxing Day!" Now all of the girls were squealing. "Yes, yes, he had intended the Ball to be on Valentine's but I told him — after consulting with the planets, of course — that this Boxing Day was the absolute best time for love to blossom." She cast a look around the students. All the boys looked as if they were about to retch, while all the girls were practically beaming at the thought.   
  
Draco found himself about to gag. Pansy was whispering away with her friends — all of whom were rather giggly. Every now and then she'd glance at him and give him a bit of a wave. No doubt she thinks she'd be going with him again. But he swore to himself that it'd be a cold day in hell when he'd go to a Ball with her again. He was clearly blackmailed, pressured, and desperate. Pansy had sworn she'd tell the whole Slytherin House that he had been sucking his thumb since he was four — how he found out, he'd never know. Crabbe and Goyle had both been giving him a hard time about it, seeing as how Draco was the only one given an offer out of the three of them. And — as much as he hated to admit it — she was the only one to ask him. Him being in Slytherin was bad enough — it was a fact: no one liked Slytherin. At all — but he also had a pretty big reputation for being — well, bad.   
  
He slumped over the round table. He'd probably have to go stag this year. He sure didn't want to go home for the Holidays — though hearing his mom and father's yells were beginning to look a bit appealing as compared to being laughed at at the Ball.   
  
Feeling even worse than he was before class started, he slowly started to bang his head against the table.   
  
"Ahh, clearly Mr. Malfoy is experiencing the effects of Pluto's orbit." Trelawney glided towards him, her head shaking gloomily. "I can sense your essence is a unique link with Pluto," she continued. "Does bad luck seem to have tailed you, Mr. Malfoy?" Draco looked up at her. Was she not the old fraud he pegged her to be? "Ah yes," she said, continuing as if he had answered. "Yes, well, I am sorry to say, Mr. Malfoy, that it would not be leaving your side soon." Draco let out a small groan. "But fret not," she said, lifting up a bony finger, "for fair fortune will be yours towards the end of the year." She nodded all-knowingly. "Yes, expect a drastic change, Mr. Malfoy. And perhaps," she said, surveying him, "even a chance at love?"   
  
Draco saw Pansy practically glowing at these words. 

_________________ 

_A/N: I'm not sure, but Boxing Day is on the 26th of December. If I'm mistaken, don't hesitate to tell me. I'd appreciate it. ^^_


End file.
